


recursion

by georgeehd



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, dreamnotfound rpf
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Description of Injuries, Fair amount of violence, Friends to Strangers to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, blood mention, dream centric, i think, is maybe more accurate, kinda? like universe hopping, not graphic tho, realistic minecraft au, sort of groundhog day but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgeehd/pseuds/georgeehd
Summary: \ ri-ˈkər-zhən\\  (definition: a computer programming technique involving the use of a procedure, subroutine, function, or algorithm that calls itself one or more times until a specified condition is met— compareiteration)-- --George grins as he jumps down to Dream, and something about his smile makes Dream's muscles tense up, as if his body anticipates a hit that doesn't come."You okay?" Sapnap asks, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dream nods and smiles, forcing himself to relax.I'm so sorry, Dream,echoes around them, and he swears it's George's voice.Except his mouth doesn't move at all.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 167





	1. the cave hunt

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo! this is me dipping my toes in the dreamteam fandom. it's been a couple months since i last wrote a fic so this was very fun! i really enjoy their friendship and videos, and they've definitely helped me feel better during this Bad Time and rediscover creativity :}
> 
> ofc, pls don't take this seriously, (it is a realistic minecraft au..) and don't shove shipping into peoples faces cause that's just fucking rude  
> and if any of them express any discomfort with fics, then, you've guessed it, this will poof!
> 
> that said, enjoy! <33

The cave is pitch black until the torch in Dream’s left hand comes alive with a flash, quickly chasing the darkness off into the corners. An eerie quiet surrounds him; the only sounds his quick laboured breaths and the crackling of fire. Dream tilts his head up, but the ceiling is too high up for the light to reach, and the only thing he can make out is a faint patch of starry sky above his landing spot.

He takes a step forward and curses when he stumbles over a rock, flinging his hand out towards the wall to steady himself. His palm leaves a wet mark of red on the cold stone. Dream considers it for a moment, wondering if he should waste time trying to cover it up, when he hears a faint voice and the sound of dirt scattering on the stone floor.

Fuck it. Dream needs to move, _ now. _

The stab wound in his side and the possibly fractured ankle keeps him from running as fast as he’d like, but the cave turns out to lead downwards, deeper and deeper, eventually branching off into tight tunnels. Dream turns right, not even taking a second to contemplate it. He has to squeeze between rocks until the path widens again, and it makes pain throb hot white right under his skin.

A far too familiar voice rings out behind him, though he can’t distinguish whether it’s in distress or delight, and it makes Dream push forward a little harder.

Some part of him, deep inside, one that’s not busy pondering all the ways this could turn either great or horrible, hopes it was a cry of disappointment.

The winding tunnel goes on for what feels like the entire night, or maybe even forever, and Dream is starting to consider just digging his way to the surface, when he notices a faint flicker of orange dance on the rocks ahead of him, right where the path turns again.

It’s not something he needs right now, when he’s barely holding onto his health with no food on him, but. It’s a choice Dream could make, if it came to it. 

A stupid choice, but then again, he’s made plenty of those already.

He dares a glance behind him. The dark seems undisturbed, and the caves are silent again, so he takes a deep breath and sets forward.

Just as he turns the corner, a growl greets him.

“Shit,” Dream groans, faltering before dropping the torch to pull out his chipped wooden axe. Its edge is already painted the brown of dried blood, and he doesn’t hesitate to swing it at the oncoming zombie. 

The axe slashes at its sickly green skin, making the creature stumble back. Dream drops into a fighting stance, feeling the adrenaline sharpen his senses and fasten his heart.

Despite the rotten blood flowing out of the wound, the attack only seems to anger the zombie. It lurches forward, outstretched arms crowding Dream towards the corner as he desperately swings his weapon into its flesh. His body aches from the effort, but he makes sure each hit counts. 

His focus slips for a second, but it’s enough. Dream feels jagged nails plunge into his shoulder, pulling him closer, and he digs his heels into the ground. 

The zombie growls straight into Dream’s face, its putrid breath making bile rise up his throat. 

Thankfully, before the creature’s sharp teeth can sink into his skin, Dream’s axe slashes straight through its neck, snapping its head almost cleanly off. The body slumps forward, still moving from the momentum and Dream leans on the wall and kicks the torso away from him. 

It falls with a gross  _ plop _ , and Dream hangs his head, taking a deep breath to steady his heart.

“Awh,” a voice calls out from his right, making his pulse kick right back up. “And here I was, hoping it would make my job easier.”

Dream shuts his eyes for a second, before turning his head towards the hunter. The axe hangs heavy by his side, and he can feel fresh blood flowing from the wounds he’d reopened during the fight.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” he spits out. The lava pool a few meters in front of him splatters and pops, its orange heat flickering in the dark glasses that cover his hunter’s face. Dream watches as the slight smile on his face grows just a bit before turning into a mocking pout.

“That really hurts,  _ Dream _ .” The name on his lips, in his honey sweet voice, feels like poison in Dream’s mouth. “I thought we were friends.”

“Fuck off,” he snarls out, pushing off the wall despite the protest in his aching muscles. He tightens the grip on his axe, staring straight into the eyes hiding behind black glass. “Or do I have to kill you again?”

The grin returns.

“I think you’ll find it won’t change much.”

His opponent takes a step closer before reaching back and pulling out a sword. The honed iron shimmers in the dim orange light, and he twirls it just a bit, as if teasing Dream.

“Well, for one,” Dream starts and lurches forwards, swinging his axe before the hunter can even establish a proper grip on his weapon. He stumbles but blocks it easily, still smiling. “It would make me feel really fucking good.” 

Dream pulls the axe back and kicks at the hunter’s shins. Despite his unstable stance, he leaps back, keeping his balance and then rushes back at Dream, bringing the sword down on him and forcing him to duck out of its path. 

_ He’s trying to corner me, _ Dream realizes, eyes darting around for an opportunity.  _ And then this will truly be over. _

In a desperate attempt, he fakes a step to the left and then twists to the right, rolling under the swing of the sword.

“Oh, Dream,” the hunter giggles, turning to face him lightning fast, and before Dream can fully get back up, his heavy boot connects with Dream’s shoulder. The kick sends him sprawling backwards, the jagged edges of rocks digging into his back. “I think your luck is finally running out.”

“Not luck,” Dream gasps out. His muscles spasm and the pain darkens corners of his vision. He forces himself to move, crawling back as he watches every move of his opponent. “I’m just better than you.”

The remark hits and the hunter falters for a moment, a frown taking over his expression. Dream crouches and grips his axe, already anticipating the hit of his sword. 

He blocks it, holding the stance, watching as the sharp iron digs into the worn wood and slowly splinters it.

The hunter doesn’t say a word, just hisses, pushing down just a little stronger, so the point of his sword touches Dream’s cheek.

The cool iron barely scratches his skin before he jerks his head away. Somehow, it seems like the cold touch teases out a new wave of adrenaline and it crashes into Dream, giving him enough strength to swiftly push back, forcing the hunter to relent his attack. 

Dream takes the opportunity and jumps back to his feet.

“Got nothing to say to that, huh?” he wipes the back of his hand against his cheek, mouth running before Dream even realizes what he’s doing.

The hunter just pants for a moment, sword held up with both arms, beads of sweat running down his chin. His face is now fully illuminated by the lava, and in the yellow-orange light of it Dream can almost see the narrowed eyes behind the glasses, under the moist dark hair splattered on his forehead. 

“There’s nothing left to say,” the hunter replies, his frown slowly sliding back to that cocky smile. He strides forward, forcing Dream to take a step back, and the shadows on the wall behind the hunter seem to grow infinitely bigger as Dream realizes the heat on his back isn’t from the exertion of their fight.

A lava bubble pops behind him, the sound almost ridiculously ominous in the tense silence of the cave.

The hunter tilts his head and stretches his arm out. The tip of his sword stops centimeters away from Dream’s chest. Dream brings his axe up, arms heavy with quickly returning fatigue, yet unwilling to give up easily.

Every sense of his is tuned to the man in front of him, and his heart seems to slow down to a crawl as his mind rushes through every scenario it can come up with, every possible ending that isn’t a painful death in fire.

“But I think I’d like to have the last word anyway,” the hunter says, giggling as he takes another step forward. 

It turns into a gasp when Dream’s axe hits his stomach. 

Dream takes the opening, jumping forward and grasping the hunter's waist with his arms. A cry of pain echoes through the cave as they hit the ground, and warm breath brushes past Dream's ear, sending shivers down his back.

There’s a tick where neither of them moves and then Dream feels the hunter kick at the ground, struggling to either push Dream off or twist them around. Still, despite his erratic moves, the adrenaline helps Dream keep his grip steady.

“Fuck,” the hunter groans and cries out again, as Dream jabs his elbow into his ribs, both of his knees squeezing the hunter’s torso. He jerks upwards a few more times, before tensing up and going still.

"Ah, Dream, I must admit," the hunter pants out between pained gasps and weak giggles. "You’re always your best when you’re desperate."

"Oh my God, just shut the hell up," Dream groans and rears back before slamming his forehead into the hunter's face.

He yelps in pain, hands flying up to his mangled, bleeding nose.

It takes a moment for both of them to realize he'd dropped his sword, world pausing for a second and then erupting into a struggle again.

Dream takes the risk and lets go, rolling to his left where the tool lays. He smiles triumphantly as his hand wraps around the hilt, already ready to leap to his feet.

Then the hunter crashes into his back, a knee forcefully jamming into the small of Dream’s back, forcing his entire body to the floor. His arm twists uncomfortably where it's still gripping the sword.

"This is going to end right now," the hunter hisses into his ear, his hair brushing against Dream's skin. A warm drop of blood falls on the side of Dream's face and rolls down his cheek. 

"Like hell," Dream replies, tightening up his muscles and thrusting his body upwards. The hunter doesn't let up, legs winding around Dream's waist. Before Dream can move again, he wraps one of his arms in a tight hold around Dream's neck, cutting off his air, while the other grips the sword just above Dream's hand, pulling and turning its pointy end towards his stomach.

Dream rears backwards again, grabbing the hunter's chokehold with his free hand. He struggles as much as he can, swaying them to the sides, and forcing the hunter to drop the sword so he can keep his grip on Dream.

Time is ticking out, however, and Dream can feel his lungs constricting, begging for air as the hunter doesn’t relax his crushing hold. His eyesight goes blurry and darkness creeps in at the edges. His body screams out in agony and in a last, desperate attempt, Dream drops the sword too and digs his nails into the hunter's skin. 

He can feel them piercing skin, can feel the blood slicking up his grip, but despite the pain his opponent doesn't let up. Using his weight, he presses Dream down to the floor, and shoves one of his knees into the wound in Dream's side.

The movement makes Dream gasp out the rest of his breath, and he throws his body to the side one last time, but the hunter on his back feels like a pile of stones crushing him to pieces.

It might be just the lack of oxygen scrambling up his brain, but before Dream loses the fight with the darkness, he swears he hears George whisper  _ I’m sorry. _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm pretty new to this fandom so like. spill,, where do all the cool kids hang? twt? tumblr? lmao i feel old fdgfsdf  
> i'll try to update soon!  
> kudos and comments are super appreciated! i'd love to hear from/talk to y'all!! <33


	2. a house, not yet a home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sapnap joins the game ;o
> 
> thank you so much for such a warm welcome! i'm glad y'all liked the first chap <3 this one is less action packed, but we will get there. also i'm not used to posting such short chapters but i also like being able to update sooner so we'll see how it'll be later!
> 
> all that said, enjoy! <3

He opens his eyes to the dirty grey of stone above him and someone screaming out his name.

“Dream? Dream! Where the hell are you?”

The shout echoes through the cave and it makes his head hurt. But… The voice is familiar. Almost comforting.

His head pounds harder and Dream squeezes his eyes shut, digging the heels of his palms into the brow bone.

He thinks he should get up, so he does; the ease with which his body moves is surprising for a second, and one of Dream’s hands flies to his side only to find it dry and unharmed. 

_Why would—_

Before he can finish the thought, a body slams into his back.

“There you are!” The person shouts in his ear, his arms wrapping around Dream’s torso. He stills for a second, body tensing up as he thinks of ways to escape when— 

“Sapnap?” he asks, turning around in the loose hold to meet his friend’s gaze.

“Who else?” Sapnap rolls his eyes, grinning as he takes a step back. “Thank God I finally found you, George is going fucking insane.”

“George?” Dream tilts his head, frowning, before shaking his head. “Where… where are we?”

“In a cave?” Sapnap blinks at him, staring for a moment before waving his arms around. “Do you not remember? Did you fall and hit your head or something?”

“No,” Dream scoffs. Sapnap stares at him a little more intently, and Dream bites his lip, looking down at the scuffed up rocks under his feet. “Maybe,” he admits quietly. “I don’t remember much. And my head hurts like hell.”

Sapnap shrugs.

“Well… I’m sure it’s fine. We’ll get you some food and a nap, and you’ll be perfect— let’s just get George first.”

“Yeah,” Dream nods, smiling at his friend. George must be his friend too then, if he’s so worried about him.

That feels right, though trying to remember _who_ George exactly is sharpens the pounding in his head into a knife-like point, and Dream has to focus on his immediate surroundings in the hope of somewhat easing it.

It doesn’t take them long to meet George.

In fact, they don’t even need to search, because George finds them himself.

Sapnap slowly retraces his steps through the cave. Dream thinks it must actually be something closer to a ravine, because as they walk forward, the place broadens and spreads upwards until they can barely see the stone and dirt layer above them.

The entrance is a wide, yawning thing, opening up to a sparse forest. A thin trickle of water slips down one wall and disappears into the ground, the humid smell wafting towards them. The sun is way above horizon, and Dream has to take a moment to stand in the shadows and stare at the blue sky until his eyes readjust.

That’s where George comes across them, his hoarse voice drifting into the cave before they can even see him.

“Sapnap! Dream!” he shouts, and the note of desperation in his voice makes Dream’s heart stop for a moment, makes him gasp in a lungful of air.

“Down here!” Sapnap answers, and takes Dream’s hand, pulling him forward. They don’t manage to get far before George sprints to the cave’s entrance, his shadow sliding down to cover Dream as he hops down the stair-like structure, arms waving with excitement.

“Finally,” he exclaims, grinning as he leaps down to a step above them. Something about his smile makes Dream's muscles tense up, as if his body is anticipating a hit.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, George pauses, his lips pressing together.

"You okay?" Sapnap asks, placing a hand on Dream’s shoulder. He nods and smiles, forces himself to relax, and looks up to find George already staring at him, his eyes invisible behind dark glasses.

 _I'm so sorry, Dream,_ echoes around them all of the sudden, and he swears it's George's voice.

Except his mouth doesn't move at all from that gentle smile.

Dream’s head explodes with pain, and it travels in electrified waves all the way down to his fingertips, forcing him to double over. He cries out in pain before his jaw locks up, and he barely avoids biting off his tongue. 

Sapnap says something, but Dream can’t hear him over the screeching agony inside his skull. He grips the sides of his head and falls on the ground, the darkness behind his eyelids flashing pure white as he whines through gritted teeth.

“What’s wrong?” George’s voice comes through, and Dream wants to lash out in pain and anger, wants to shake the boy until he explains how and why he’s done this to him.

Why couldn’t he just leave him be? Why did he have to drain off every drop of Dream’s life? Why did he look at him with that smile only to stab him in the back? Why? Why? _Why?_

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?!” he roars out, nails digging into his own scalp.

“Dream!” George shouts again, and Dream can feel his arms shaking with the desire to wrap around his neck and— 

Two warm hands land on his, slender fingers enveloping Dream’s, and the world pauses just like that.

The pain slides off, like the ocean before a tsunami, and all that’s left in its wake is immense confusion and tears in Dream’s eyes that fall despite him forbidding them to.

A shiver passes down his back, and Dream lets his body unfold, allows George to drag his hands off his head. He looks up and finds his friend staring at him, glasses askew enough for him to see one of his eyes, flooded with concern. Sapnap hovers right behind him, worry written all over his face.

“What happened?” he asks, and Dream just shakes his head before giving in and dropping his body forward so that his forehead lands on George’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” George asks, his breath brushing against Dream’s ear.

 _No,_ Dream wants to answer, wants to laugh until there’s no air left in his lungs, wants to let his body melt into the stone and never get up again.

“Yeah,” he says in a raspy and quiet voice instead.

“Good,” George answers, and that one word is drenched so heavily with sorrow and remorse, it breaks straight in half and plummets all the way down to Dream’s stomach.

Sapnap is the one leading them to the house.

“It’s nothing much, just something we quickly put together while you were out mining,” he explains on the way, using the sun’s position to figure out the way they need to go. “And then you just. Didn’t come back, and, well, you know the rest.”

“Sure,” Dream answers, taking the time to look around the sparse forest they’re in. It does look similar. Familiar. Yet something keeps bothering him, way in the back of his mind, something that points out all the ways it’s wrong, all the ways it’s not where he should actually be.

George walks right after Dream, following him close, but never meeting his gaze.

Sometimes, Dream is pretty sure he can feel his eyes on the back of his head, but whenever he turns around, no matter how quickly, George is already looking the other way.

He looks guilty, which is something Dream can’t quite understand. He wasn’t the one that caused Dream’s pain; and anyway, it has passed and not come back, so it must have been just a side effect of having hit his head. There’s no reason for George to avoid him, or to feel bad about— so why does he seem so scared to look Dream in the eyes, or even touch him?

But before Dream can figure it out, or just plainly confront George, Sapnap yelps with excitement, sprinting off towards a tiny birch house.

“I never thought I’d see it again,” he mock-sobs at the door, and Dream chuckles at that, watching the ordeal.

George makes a choked up sound, and then pushes past them to walk inside; but it’s so careful, he barely even brushes Dream’s clothes as he slips by, and something about it grinds on Dream’s nerves.

“Okay, what the fuck got into _him_?” Sapnap says, staring at the door that slams shut in front of their faces.

“I dunno,” Dream answers quietly before following George inside. He thinks he should know.

When they come in, he’s setting raw mutton into the smokers before walking off and leaning against a wall. Dream spares a glance, but George’s face is set into an unreadable mask of neutrality. Not like he could see much anyway, with the dark glasses down.

 _That’s why I never liked them,_ Dream thinks, and it startles him. Sapnap brushes against his side, going straight for the food, and the thought dispels before Dream can fully unravel it. 

He stands still for a second, then shakes his head and takes in the place.

It’s small and crowded, walls adorned with windows that let the sun stream in and paint everything in gentle gold rays. It’s also clearly been thrown together with practicality in mind and not design, but Dream finds he still likes the way it feels. One wall is lined with furnaces and smokers, while three beds stand opposite it, all in the same off-white, almost gray colour, and the sight makes him smile.

There’s glimpses of the three of them play-fighting about who gets which one; thin, barely-there memories of late night conversations and the way the world would seem too quiet whenever Dream’d wake up first. 

It feels… strange, to have all these small details pop out of nowhere as if they’re ingrained in his brain, when he can’t even remember meeting the people who call him their friend. The disparity makes him anxious, and thinking _about_ the anxiety makes him even more anxious, which is why Dream feels immensely grateful when Sapnap interrupts him once more. He hands Dream a steak wrapped in a small linen handkerchief.

“Thank you,” Dream says quietly, and hisses when the heat burns him slightly.

Sapnap is still staring at him, even as Dream devours the meat, and he gives his friend a gentle smile, mouth stuffed full.

“You don’t look good,” Sapnap notes, matter-of-factly, and George makes a noise behind Dream, startling them both.

“You think so? Did you not notice the— _that—_ whatever the hell it was, back in the cave?” he asks, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. “What even happened to you, Dream? You disappeared for almost two days. You look at us as if you’re seeing us for the first time in your life. And I’m assuming Sapnap found you without anything, when you had left with a filled bag, and fully dressed in leather armor.”

Dream swallows heavily. His hands quiver as he pulls them into fists, watching George push off the wall and come to stand right in front of him. He can feel the weight of his stare, even through the black glass.

“Yeah, it is weird, but let him relax, dude,” Sapnap says and places a hand on Dream’s shoulder, and only then Dream realizes that his entire body has started trembling. “I’m sure he’ll tell us everything he knows once he recovers.”

“Yeah,” George scoffs and shakes his head. “I'm sure he will.”

Dream bites his lip before blurting out. 

“I don't know what happened,” he admits, and, weirdly, it doesn't make him feel any lighter. “I don't remember anything. And— and you're right. I'm looking at you like I've never seen you, because _I haven't.”_

“What—” Sapnap starts, but he's interrupted by George.

“I believe you,” he says, and takes off his glasses. His eyes are dark brown, and the rays of sun illuminate the flecks of gold in them. Now that Dream can clearly see them, he’s unable to tear his gaze away, even if the emotions, so clear in the way George studies his face, makes him freeze, makes panic and anger rise up his throat. “This isn’t the first time for me, you know? Or for you, too, I suppose.”

“What?!” Sapnap exclaims and slaps his other hand on George’s shoulder, pulling him towards himself. “Okay, what the _hell?_ What does that mean?”

George doesn’t look away, just leans in towards Dream, his nose stopping mere millimeters from Dream’s. He can feel George’s breath brush against his skin, warm even as his whole body heats up with emotions he can’t quite place.

They’re not good, that Dream can tell.

“You’re not _my_ Dream,” George hisses out, and fists Dream’s t-shirt, keeping him in place. Not like he would have ran anyway. “So you’d better get out and bring him back, or I swear on my own life, I will kill you.”

He pushes Dream so hard, he might have fallen if not for Sapnap’s hand still on his shoulder. A tense shock blankets them all, and nobody says a word as George turns around and stalks out of the house.

The force with which he slams the door shut makes the walls tremble. Dream takes in a deep breath for the first time in what feels like hours.

“Uh, what the ever loving fuck just happened?” Sapnap says, standing dumbfounded as Dream shakes off his hand and goes to sit on one of the beds. “Hello?” he asks, when Dream doesn’t say anything, hands slowly coming down to the sides. “Do you have an explanation?”

“No,” Dream answers. The words feel razor-sharp, climbing up his throat and turning his voice raspy. “But I think I know how to fix this.”

“Sure. Feel free to tell me. Like, right now.” Sapnap comes to stand in front of him, hands resting on his hips. He’s regarding Dream with a wary expression, and it makes him smile. 

_He always looks at me like that whenever I’m about to do something stupid._

Unsurprisingly, the uninvited memory doesn’t make him feel better. Dream sighs and shakes off the thought, mustering up as much determination as he can and looking Sapnap straight into the eyes.

“I need to kill the Ender Dragon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh-oh dream, should you really do that? don't you remember how- ooooh, yeah, right. anyway.  
> i'm posting this at 1am cuz i'm tired of sitting on it so i'm sorry if there's typos or anything.
> 
> kudos and comments are very much appreciated! see you soon (hopefully~) <33


	3. time to go back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we back in the mine
> 
> dsfgadsf i'm. sorry i accidentally dipped for like 2 weeks, depression crashed into me and then i forgot how time works. but here's 3k words to hopefully make up for it! we are getting to the Plot and i'm actually v excited for what comes next >:3  
> thank u for sticking w me <3
> 
> quick short tw: blood mention, smth kinda similar to a panic attack, and not v descriptive vomiting happens
> 
> anyway, enjoyyy~

“Yeah, you definitely hit your head a little too hard,” Sapnap finally says, cracking a weak smile. It fades soon afterwards when he realizes Dream isn’t smiling back. “You’re not fucking _serious._ ”

“I am. I can’t tell you how I know that, I just know it’s what I need to do.” Dream shrugs, looking down where his hands lay on his knees. They’re shaking. He curls them into tight fists and takes a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t know if it’ll fix… anything. But I know it’s important, so. Maybe it will.”

Sapnap is quiet for a moment, and Dream is too anxious to look up at his expression. He knows how insane he sounds, knows how easy it’d be for Sapnap to leave, to go find George. Not that George is acting any more reasonably, to be fair. In fact, maybe the best choice of action for Sapnap would be to just go out on his own, find new friends, build a normal life without— 

“Fine,” Sapnap interrupts his spiral, and the bed creaks when he slumps down next to Dream. “Fine! I guess we are doing this then.”

“Wait. Really?” Dream lifts his head, staring at his friend.

Sapnap gives him another gentle smile before nodding.

“Yeah. Really.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” Dream argues, despite hope blooming in his chest. “Like, I’m pretty sure I can figure this out on my own.”

“Dream,” Sapnap laughs, punching his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious. I won’t let you do this alone. Besides, I need to make sure George doesn’t _actually_ kill you.”

Dream wants to laugh, but the sound gets stuck in his throat, choking him up. Dread swirls in his stomach, rising up to his mouth, flooding it with numbness.

There’s things he wants to say, to explain, but he doesn’t know how. His head spins with feelings Dream can’t quite comprehend, so he stays silent.

Sapnap takes it as agreement, clearly, because his grin widens, and his eyes brighten with excitement.

“You know,” he says after a moment. Dream can’t look at his delighted face any longer, so he focuses on the way Sapnap’s right leg has started to bounce. “This might actually be a fun thing! I mean, it will definitely be hard, and we should prepare really well, but—”

“I’m going to sleep,” Dream announces, interrupting him, and walks over to a different bed.

“What— Dream! It’s midday!”

“I’ll just take a quick nap. My head hurts.” It’s not quite a lie; the more Dream tries to grasp at his wandering memories, the harder his head begins to pound. He would very much like to pass out for a few hours.

“Well, okay. I guess you could,” Sapnap says, watching Dream kick off his shoes and get under the covers. “I’ll uh. I’ll go get wood, hunt for some food.”

“Sure.” Dream turns around, pressing his cheek against his hands. He listens to Sapnap moving around, and forces his eyes shut. “Stay safe,” he mumbles into the pillow after a minute, almost expecting for Sapnap to not hear it.

“I’ll try,” comes the answer, and then the door slams shut, leaving an oppressive quiet behind.

Dream tries his best to turn off his mind, but the thoughts keep speeding in circles, no matter what he tries to focus on.

Eventually, he flips over to his back and stares at the ceiling. His gaze follows the crooked lines of birch planks as he counts them in hopes of shutting his brain up. 

A tree rustles outside, and it makes him jump, but before he can get out of bed, Dream realizes it’s just a harmless animal.

Still, his pulse keeps racing and doesn't calm for hours.

_“Oh Geo~rge,” Dream leers. He’s leaning on the wall in front of George, the bloodied iron of his sword reflecting the shine from George’s torch. “Did you really think you could sneak past me?”_

_George coughs, using a sleeve to wipe the blood that spills down his chin._

_“Don’t think I had any other choice,” he croaks out, and Dream tilts his head._

_He doesn’t like the dark glasses, the way they hide George’s pretty, fearful eyes._

_He thinks— Dream thinks it would be fun to use the tip of his sword and push them up with, to see the fear blooming in George’s gaze._

_So, he does it._

Dream— 

_Except no matter how he tries, his hand doesn’t move at all, and Dream exhales shakily, watching as George stares at him, barely standing even with the stone wall as support._

_He’s… not supposed to be here. He thinks so. No, he knows._

_Doesn’t he?_

_Where even_ is _here?_

_Dream snaps his head around, almost expecting to see light birch walls bathed in golden light, but they’re deep underground, in a tight, long cave. The air is so heavy with the smell of blood, he can taste iron on his tongue. It makes him sick._

_“George?” Dream whispers, looking back. His hand trembles and he lets the sword drop, takes a step closer. The clank of metal on stone echoes around them and makes George flinch._

_“Uhh, what’s going on?” George mutters, slowly moving away from Dream, one hand splayed on the wall. The other holds the torch out towards Dream, as if it could stop him if he wanted to jump at the wounded boy._

_Dream shakes his head at the thought; his hands itch to feel the soft skin underneath them. He wants to feel the wet, warm blood flood against his cold touch._

_He can’t understand why._

_He doesn’t want George to be scared of him, to hurt him, to_ kill _him, does he?_

Does he?

_“George,”_ Dream shoots up with a gasp, hands reaching out to the empty air in front of him. The rough wood planks quietly stare back at him.

He sits there for a few more seconds, heart knocking against his ribs. Something about the dream makes his vision spin just enough to unsettle his stomach, and Dream has to close his eyes and take several slow breaths. 

His heart doesn’t slow down, forcing the image to resurface. The view of George, battered and bloody and scared, is so clear, for a second Dream thinks he’s back in the cave. Thinks he can smell the iron in the air again.

Dream slowly blinks his eyes open, and he’s not sure if he’s glad or disappointed to see the blanket covering his legs.

With a frustrated huff, he throws it off and leaps out of the bed.

The sun has almost completely set and Sapnap still isn’t back. 

Dream eats another piece of cooked mutton, sitting on the stairs right outside the entrance of the house. He watches the sky fade into dark blue, stars slowly brightening in the sky as clouds lazily float by.

There are monsters crawling out of depths now, their growls and snarls echoing through the tree trunks around the house, and Dream has half a mind to go back to sleep. Something like worry tugs at his chest, though, and he doesn’t feel tired at all anyways, so he sits and waits, pulling his knees up and placing his chin on them.

He _could_ go looking for Sapnap, except he has no clue where the other man could have gone. There’s a forest all around the house, a river weaving between trees somewhere nearby—Dream can hear the murmur of running water—and mountain tops just barely peeking through the leaves, their icy peaks bright against the darkening sky. The world is wide and open, and Dream is just a wandering stranger in it.

He watches a torch on the bottom of the stairs flicker, its orange light warm and familiar.

With a start, he realizes he could also go back to the cave. He still remembers the way back, despite his mind being preoccupied when they were walking. 

And it sounds better than just sitting on the wooden stairs and waiting for either Sapnap or a monster to show up. Maybe he’d even find something that could trigger his memories.

Dream nods to himself, satisfied, and stands up, taking a couple steps forward before realizing he doesn’t have anything with him. It would be a bad idea to leave like that, so he returns inside and takes a look around.

There’s a chest in a corner, some tools and armor inside it he could borrow. Well, _“borrow”._

_Not like there’s anyone here to ask permission from,_ Dream shrugs, pulling on a leather chestplate. He takes a brand new stone axe; the weight in his hand, the smooth wood hilt in his grip—it’s familiar. Makes him feel safer, somehow.

Dream doesn’t ponder it, quickly filling a bag with some food and other materials and setting off.

The sparse birch forest looks quite different without the sunlight, and Dream walks slowly, taking in cool air and tense quiet all around him. Sometimes a hiss or a rattle or a growl comes his way, forcing him to speed up for a bit, but he tries to keep his pace steady.

For some reason, the thought of the cave makes him jittery. The idea of stone walls pressing up against him, the waver of yellow-orange light the only thing between him and jet-black shadows. The feel of his axe in his hand, ready for a swing.

Muscular arms, wrapped tight around his neck— 

Immersed in his thoughts, Dream almost stumbles down when the ground sharply dips underneath his foot but manages to catch his balance at the last second. Still, his grip on his torch slacks, and it slips out, rolling down the stair-like structure.

“Shit,” he grumbles, watching the light flicker and go out.

The moon above his head is full and bright, easily illuminating the gaping entrance to the underground ravine. It looks cold and hostile, and the dark seems like a barely contained beast, waiting to pounce on Dream the moment he steps in.

Dread crawls up his throat, making his hands tremble with anxiety, but despite it, he inches forwards, slowly climbing down as he keeps his eyes on the shadows. Eventually, his boot hits against the dropped torch, and he squats down, looking away momentarily as he ignites it again.

A tremor of _deja vu_ rolls down his shoulders, and Dream takes in a sharp breath, hurriedly standing up and letting the light flood around him.

There’s no one there. The quiet hangs over him, heavy and harsh, before chirping of bats echoes out of the cave, breaking it.

Dream exhales, steadies himself, and steps forward.

Besides a couple of skeletons and some spiders, the cave is empty, leading downwards in a straightforward path. It still looks the same as it did that morning, and though Dream swings his torch around, intently studying the walls, no memories resurface.

He stops at the place where Sapnap had found him, but it just looks like any other spot in the cave. Not a pebble seems out of place. No items left behind.

It doesn’t make him feel any better.

He waits for a couple minutes, but his mind is blank. I’s a little disappointing, but Dream figures he could at least get some mining done, so the trip isn’t completely useless.

There’s a vein of iron ore a little further in, so Dream pulls out his borrowed stone pickaxe, and gets to work.

It’s the biggest vein he’s seen, Dream thinks when he finds himself with a pile of unsmelted iron and still more to mine out, so he quickly makes a couple furnaces, glad he’d taken wood with himself just in case. The iron smelts quickly, and he makes himself more tools—an iron pickaxe to speed up the work, and a sword, just in case a monster sneaks up on him. 

Dust sticks to sweat on his face, itchy and uncomfortable, and Dream impatiently rubs it off with his sleeve. The cave now smells like wood smoke, settling deep in his lungs. His arms are starting to ache from the effort, and he considers taking a break when he breaks past another piece of iron ore to find a hollow space behind it. 

Heated air floods at his face, the distinct yet faint scent of lava wafting towards him, and Dream has to take a step back. There’s a strange, almost fire-like noise, making him throw a look over his shoulder, almost instinctively, but the cave is dim and silent behind him. Must be whatever is in there.

With a deep breath, Dream adjusts his grip on the pickaxe and pushes through the crack in the wall.

He finds himself on a thin ledge next to a comparatively small lava pool. It’s backed by a wall on his right, with a narrow path winding around it to his left that eventually widens.

And there’s a Nether portal right in front of him.

Dream freezes, watching the purple translucent layer glimmer against the warm light of lava.

He can’t help but wonder how it got here—did Sapnap build it?

Did _George?_

If so, why?

Whatever. Whoever it was, they’re not here. Besides, the portal is quite useful for him, and Dream was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He shakes the thoughts off and takes a step sideways, slowly edging his way to the other side. It takes some time, Dream carefully taking each step as if the ground beneath him could crumble and send him sprawling into lava.

It doesn’t, and when he comes up to the other side, he finds it’s an extension of a separate cave, a sharp turn leading to a cramped tunnel. Dream walks up and leans to the corner, placing his left hand on the wall.

The skin on his palm immediately explodes with burning pain as if he had stuck into acid.

Dream lets out an involuntary shriek, dropping his pickaxe and falling backwards. He lands in a puddle, which didn’t seem to be there before. It’s deep enough to soak his back, getting under the armor, and up to the hair curling on his nape.

The pain in his hand subsides fast, simmering down to an ache similar to a tender wound, and yet, it still sends shocks down his back.

Still gasping for breath, Dream slowly sits up, cradling his palm close to his heart.

“What the fuck,” he whispers. The liquid on his back is cold, even with the lava bubbling right behind him, and Dream reaches backwards with his shaking, but painless, right hand. He brushes it through his tangled hair, tries to shake the moisture out of them.

A shout echoes past him, way too human-like for his comfort, pausing Dream’s heart. He stays still for a minute, but the sound doesn’t repeat again.

That doesn’t mean there’s nobody there; besides, they must be aware of him too. There’s no way they haven’t heard his scream.

Dream doesn’t let himself relax, but he slowly pulls himself up to his knees. There’s not much he can do about his wet undershirt, so he ignores it and lowers his hands, when a flash of colour in his peripheral vision catches Dream’s attention.

He swallows heavily, bites his lip, and brings his right hand up to his face.

It’s fully stained with the deep red of fresh blood.

Dream sucks in a surprised breath and instantly regrets it when the sickeningly sweet iron smell hits his lungs. The thought of it all over him—soaking into his hair, his shirt drenched in it, his skin tainted with it—makes bile rise up to his mouth, has him scrambling forwards on all fours, putting as much distance between him and the puddle.

Despite how hard he struggles, or perhaps because of his hurry, the leather chestplate doesn’t want to come off. His heart beats so loud, he can hear the pulse in his ears. His body trembles all over, muscles suddenly barely strong enough to hold him up, and Dream gives up. He leans down on his clean hand, smushes his nose against the cool stone ground and closes his eyes.

He feels like he’s suffocating; the metallic smell mixes with heat and floods his senses. Out of desperation, Dream tries breathing through his mouth, but it only makes things worse. The iron coats his tongue and forces itself down his throat, and before he realizes it, Dream is gagging his dinner up.

The burning acidity overwhelms his sense of taste, and it’s the strangest relief he’s ever felt; throwing up makes him feel even weaker, but he manages to crawl away, taking small, calculated breaths through his bitter-coated mouth as his heart thrashes against his ribs.

It takes a few minutes more, but slowly, Dream’s mind clears, and he opens his eyes to the dark grey beneath him.

He’s _seen_ blood before. Dream knows that; he can—barely, but enough—remember it staining his side, his arms, his weapons. He’s never liked the smell or look of it, but— 

he’s never reacted this strong before.

So why now? What’s different?

Dream closes his eyes, folding the hand under his forehead into a fist and pressing his knuckles into his browbone.

He stays there for a while, mind whirring but coming up empty handed. And then, just how it started, it’s all over.

The iron smell fades away. His head stops spinning. His mouth no longer tastes of bile.

Dream sits up with a start, both hands flinging to his nape only to find it dry. The only thing dampening his hair is sweat. When he checks it, his right hand is dusty, but clean, blood-wise.

_...Was that a hallucination?_

It could have been. Maybe he really did hit his head way too strong. Maybe he’s going insane.

Maybe— 

A wooden axe lays a little further to his side, its chipped edge painted the brown of dried blood.

_Mine,_ Dream recognizes immediately, before frowning.

_Mine?_

_Yes. Yours._

Dream gasps, as memories come flooding back in. They move too fast at first, pulling at the threads of his mind and tangling into them, and it’s _painful;_ more painful than a blade between his ribs, than someone snapping a bone in half, than getting set on fire or having an arrow lodge into his back.

But it only takes a second for them to calm down, and soon enough Dream opens his eyes again.

It’s not just any cave, or lava pool.

This is where he died.

This is where George _—his George, the hunter—_ killed him.

Almost like in a daze, Dream stands up on trembling legs, brushes sweat-drenched hair off his forehead, takes a deep breath. The knowledge sits uncomfortably in the back of his mind, like a rock in his shoe, but it feels good to finally remember.

He picks up the wooden axe on his way and walks to the edge of the lava pool. Looks down at it and whispers a quiet thanks before tossing the tool into the lava.

Then he pulls out the brand new iron sword, takes a second to adjust to its weight, and steadies his heart as much as he can.

There are things he needs to do, monsters he needs to kill, and now is as good as ever.

Dream takes a step forward and walks into the Nether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao when i tagged it slow burn i wasn't lying,,,,, don't worry tho, george is coming back real soon.  
> and sapnap too!
> 
> also while i was depression browsing, i decided to make a [tumblr @ patchessolostan ](https://patchessolostan.tumblr.com/). feel free to come talk to me, i'm lonely nd shit lmao. also i might write some other fics in between this. who knows (you could! if you followed me. ;] )
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos and comments are super appreciated <333  
> see you soon!. well. soon-er, than last time. no promises though sdfghh


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